The following woodcut is copied from a pamphlet entitled ‘A Purge for Pluralities, showing the unlawfulnesse of men to have two Livings, or the Downefall of Double Benifices.’

THE PLURALIST, 1642.

The abuse of the Crown’s prerogative in the granting of patents and monopolies was very frequent in the reigns of Elizabeth and James, and was not diminished under Charles the First. The practice did not fail to attract the notice of the satirical writers of the day, and caricature laid hold on the ‘Projectors and Patentees,’ and held them up to ridicule. ‘A Dialogue or accidental discourse betwixt Mr. Alderman Abell, and Richard Kilvert, the two maine Projectors for Wine, 1641, contains a woodcut showing ‘The manner and forme how Projectors and Patentees have rode a Tylting in a Parliament time.’ The wit of the illustration is a little obscure to the modern reader, but at the time of its publication it was no doubt understood, and relished accordingly. The pamphlet describes how Messrs. Abell and Kilvert laid their heads together to obtain the patent for wine; how they put the patent in force, and how, after the tide turned against them, they reviled one another.

As the excitement of the Civil War increased, political animosity rose to a red heat. Cavaliers and Roundheads belaboured each other in many a merciless pamphlet, to which they often endeavoured to give additional bitterness by woodcut caricatures. Prominent individuals, such as Prince Rupert, became marks for the satirist’s wit. Even the throne itself did not escape, and it was broadly hinted that the Protestant king was unduly influenced by the Roman Catholic queen. The curious subject of the growth of caricature might be illustrated by numerous examples from the publications of this period, but it will be sufficient to refer to two or three more woodcut satires of this date.

The distractions of the times were epitomised by John Taylor, the Water Poet, in an illustrated rhyming pamphlet, published in 1642. It is entitled, ‘Mad Fashions, Od Fashions, all out of Fashion, or the Emblems of these distracted Times.’

EMBLEMS OF THE DISTRACTED TIMES, 1642.

The author compares England to the engraving on his title-page, where everything is represented upside down:—

‘The Picture that is printed on the front Is like this Kingdome if you look upon ‘t; For if you well doe note it as it is, It is a Transform’d Metamorphasis. This Monstrous Picture plainly doth declare This land (quite out of order) out of square. His Breeches on his shoulders doe appeare, His doublet on his lower parts doth weare. His Boots and Spurs upon his Armes and Hands, His Gloves upon his feet (whereon he stands) The church o’erturned (a lamentable show) The Candlestick above, the light below, The Coney hunts the Dogge, the Rat the Cat, The Horse doth whip the Cart (I pray marke that) The Wheelbarrow doth drive the man (Oh Base) And Eeles and Gudgeons flie a mighty pace. And sure this is a Monster of strange fashion That doth surpasse all Ovids transformation. And this is England’s case this very day, All things are turned the clean contrary way; For now, as when a Royall Parliament, (With King, and Peers, and Commons whole consent) Have almost sate two years, with paines and Cares, And charge, to free us from our Griefes and fears, For when many a worthy Lord and Knight, And good Esquire (for King and Countrey’s Right) Have spent so much time with great Toyle and Heede All England’s vicious garden how to weed, So like a wildernesse ‘twas over run, That though much better hath been done; All is not done.’

The Water Poet sided with the Cavalier party, and verse and prose flowed plentifully from his pen in favour of the Royal cause. His effusions provoked many replies, one of which is entitled, ‘No Mercurius Aquaticus, but a Cable-Rope, double twisted for John Tayler, the Water Poet; who escaping drowning in a Paper-Wherry-Voyage, is reserved for another day, as followeth, viz.’

Then follows the subjoined woodcut, with verses underneath. The hint that the poet was born to be hanged because he had escaped from drowning refers to his having undertaken to sail from London to Queenborough in a boat made of brown paper. In this foolhardy exploit Taylor and a friend who was with him nearly lost their lives. The tract under notice affords a good specimen of the sort of language used by the partisans of each faction against their opponents: ‘I should be loathe to foule my fingers with any base Pamphlets that comes from Oxford, if the venom of their malicious spleens were darted against my particular self: But when through my sides they wound the honour of the Parliament and our Armies abroad, I cannot but set Pen to paper, and pay them back again in their own kinde. And who d’ye think I should meet abroad for a Rogue-in-Print but one of our City Water-rats, the doughty John Taylor, who according to the knavish custom, changes his name upon every new paper-designe? Sometimes he calls himself Thorney Ailo, Mercurius Aquaticus, and now he entitles himself No Mercurius Aulicus. I thought I had lately sent rope enough for all the Parrots in Oxford; But I perceive they will be prattling still; and therefore I must unmaske the Mysterious Masters of the science of railing. There are three grand paper conspirators well known by the name of Mercurius Aulicus, George Naworth, and reverend Master John Tayler the water-tankard, by whose sprinklings in this great dearth of Wit and Honesty the University is cherished and kept in credit. These three are they which pumpe and Pimpe about with their Prostitute Noddles in the behalf of Popery, Murder, and Rebellion against the state; they are Liars in all elements, Aulicus for Land-lies, Tayler for Water, and hungry George Naworth for all between Heaven and Earth, where I doubt not but to see them all meet together to take their farewell of the world, where the Parrots will find Ropes made of stronger Lines than mine, and such as will non-plus the very primest Wits in the University.’